Movie Recommendation: The Court Jester

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The Court Jester is one of those old movies that’s unfortunately fallen into obscurity. I can’t recommend it enough, because as I said earlier this week, it’s like a slightly sillier version of The Princess Bride, but with a much higher grade of acting talent and — yes, I’m serious, here — better swordplay. Suck it, Mandy Patinkin. I love you as Inigo and everything, but Danny Kaye and Basil Rathbone seriously kick your ass. And the thing is, that’s repeated throughout the entire movie. You watch The Princess Bride, and there’s no doubt that it’s a solid movie, with snappy dialogue and great acting, not to mention wonderful fight choreography and a solid plot. It’s a brilliant, swashbuckling romance, ornamented by ridiculous and clever comedy. Then you hit The Court Jester, and it’s a bit like going to Maine for a lobster dinner after you’ve only ever eaten at The Red Lobster. There’s just no comparison. Or drinking, say, Franziskaner beer after never having drunk anything but Coors and Budweiser. All of a sudden, you realize that this is how it ought to be. And over and above that, you get through the whole movie and realize that it never once descends into crudity, while still being very aware of sexual themes and playing them for laughs. The scene where Glynis Johns first seduces the evil King Roderick in order to steal his key (really!) and then repels him by implying that she’s the carrier of, essentially, the Black Death is one of the best pieces of dialogue ever written. I’m not sure why we don’t do this anymore. I feel like maybe the lack of special effects and the stringent restrictions on Hollywood’s dialogue choices back in the day may have actually made them stronger, because they really had to write better and do more work to overcome those restrictions. And it’s not like writers and filmmakers are incapable of such cleverness, now: one only has to look at The Incredibles to realize that. But again, that’s a movie that labors under restrictions: it’s audience is children and it can’t go for cheap, crude laughs. So it actually has to be good. It’s not inevitable that screenwriters go for the cheap laughs and the eye-blowing effects: it’s economics. When horribly-written, cliche-ridden films like Avatar make the money they do, why should you spend the extra time and money making sure that they actually have coherent plots and intelligent dialogues? I suspect that, conversely, when the only thing keeping people in movie houses (besides the acting) were the dialogue and the script, the creative “muscles,” as it were, of the artists strengthened, and what seems today like an impossible amount of work was more like effortless joy to them. You know, sort of like parkour would kill me if I tried it, but to a young athlete, it’s just a fun thing to do on the way to someplace. Perhaps we should remember that. Now I have some more thoughts on this movie, including some valuable writing lessons it’s taught me, but that’s going on my Patreon page, where I hope you’ll join me.

9 thoughts on “Movie Recommendation: The Court Jester

  1. The vast majority of Hollywood CAN’T do this anymore. Brad Bird is one of the few rare geniuses left with the wit and cleverness to pull off a film like “The Incredibles”, or “The Court Jester”.

    In fact, considering recent Hollywood output Pixar may be the only studio left in America with that quality of writers, and even they have cooled off from a brilliant run. Even then the trailers of “The Incredibles 2” have the worrying signs of going for low-hanging fruit, though since it’s Bird I’ll certainly give it a chance either way.

    I’ve been meaning to try “The Court Jester” since John C. Wright recommended it a while back. Thanks for the review!

    • I, too, am worried about The Incredibles 2, for the same reasons you mentioned. I really hope I’m wrong, because the first film remains one of my favorite films of the past decade or so. Thanks for the feedback. You’ll love it.

  2. I don’t think they could get away with making a movie’s McGuffin the shape of a birthmark on a minor’s butt, either. Or choreograph a duel to the snapping of fingers. Get it?

    Got it.

    Good.

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